


Do Re Mi

by hyunwoo



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Kids, M/M, Teacher Kihyun, Toddlers, single dad hyunwoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyunwoo/pseuds/hyunwoo
Summary: Kihyun is Hyunwoo's son kindergarten teacher who has a bright smile and soft eyes. Hyunwoo just can't not get him out of his head.
Relationships: Son Hyunwoo | Shownu/Yoo Kihyun
Comments: 32
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! It's been literally ages but yeah, here I'm.  
> I've had this in my drafts, unfinished for idk how long (at least 2 months or more) but I finally gathered my lazy ass and finished writing and betaed the fic.
> 
> I'm sorry if you find any grammar erros, English is not my mother tongue but I hope everything's alright.
> 
> Have fun!

Monday morning, Hyunwoo wakes up early—earlier than necessary—reluctant, groaning, willing away the breathy exhale against his chest. He curses the small fingers tiptoeing across his face, up towards his cheekbones and eyelids, tugging gently, trying to tug them open.

But they’re persistent, those fingers, and Hyunwoo relents, flutters his eyes open up to see a pair of bright eyes blinking up at him, tiny teeth pulled into a smile, the morning light haloing his son’s face in soft pinks.

Jooheon is not supposed to sleep in his bed anymore. He is a big boy, and Changkyun needs him, needs his hyung to be very brave, and protect him from the monsters when Daddy is not around. Changkyun needs him, and he can’t be left alone? Does Jooheon understand?

( _ Yes, yes! I understand, Daddy _ , he’d promised just last night)

Hyunwoo’s alarm hasn’t even gone off yet, isn’t set to for another 20 minutes— another 20 glorious minutes— he deserves them, he needs them—but Jooheon is nuzzling into him, whispering “Daddy, please! Daddy, it's my first day.”

Jooheon kisses his nose, little fingers touching across his eyebrows and forehead.  _ God _ , Jooheon is persuasive; Hyunwoo’s sigh is long-suffering.

“Daddy,” he insists, pouting. “First day.”

Hyunwoo eyes his phone. Eighteen minutes if he just… If he just coaxes Jooheon back into his bed, just lets himself slide into the warm cradle of his sheets...

But it’s Jooheon’s first day. He promised.

The fatigue even after indulging eight hours of sleep settles into his limbs, bone-deep. Hyunwoo allows himself one last mournful glance at his phone.

“Ok. Let’s get ready,”

Jooheon chirps in agreement, lands another sticky kiss to Hyunwoo’s chin and slides off the bed, running towards the door, giggling and mumbling to himself.

Hyunwoo checks Changkyun and he is still asleep, so he lets him be for a little longer, tugging Jooheon into the bathroom.

He lifts Jooheon by his armpits and puts him on the blue stool they bought. Jooheon had placed the stool by the sink three days ago, said _ I'm a grown-up Daddy! _ , and they do their business; Hyunwoo shaves, Jooheon brushes his teeth. 

Jooheon recently made the transition to the “big boy” toothpaste, the mint one, and he still grimaces at the burning flavor, scrubbing too hard, smearing foam all over the seam of his mouth as he chatters on about how Mommy also said she’d buy him the new Iron Man toy if he behaved today and didn't fight with or yell at any new friends.

Hyunwoo smiles in agreement, says he'll match Mommy's contribution, no problem. And if Jooheon was a really, really good boy, maybe they could even go to the arcade at the mall on the weekend.

Jooheon squeals in excitement, doing his signature victory dance. He kicks his legs, sways his hips and laughs. Still perched on the sink, chattering now about which arcade machine he’s most excited to play, Jooheon watches Hyunwoo shave, brush his teeth and comb his hair.

“Comb mine,” Jooheon nothing but commands, pointing to his hair. Hyunwoo laughs but complies, combing Jooheon’s hair, even letting him use his gel.  _ Jooheoney wants to look handsome too daddy. _

Jooheon continues to fuss over his appearance, running the sticky gel through his hair over and over again, before placing it on the sink, satisfied. He insists he’s allowed to pick his own outfit for today, he’d chosen it the day before to be honest. He likes his new Iron Man shirt.

Waking up a drooly Changkyun results in a fumbled one-armed diaper change, a sleep-sloppy kiss to Hyunwoo’s cheek, tiny arms winding tight around his neck. 

A happy baby, laughing more often than he cries, Changkyun’s chubby cheek tickles over Hyunwoo’s throat as he releases a series of hiccuping sighs. In the meantime, Jooheon—big enough to pick his own clothes, he’s going to kindergarten, after all—dresses himself. His favorite Iron Man shirt, black sweatpants, his favorite black converses.

Hyunwoo dresses himself in a rush, readies Changkyun’s diaper bag, fixes Jooheon’s backpack—his lunchbox, his indoor shoes, an extra change of clothes, a pencil box, a pack of wet tissues, Jooheon’s treasure box.

Jooheon is so excited, visibly and vocally so, but he still worries the soft cotton of his t-shirt between his chubby fingers. Hyunwoo knows that Jooheon is not only excited, but he is also nervous, speaking with a false bravado about how incredible the day is going to be, now that he has a new shirt and his hair is combed nicely and he is using big boy toothpaste.  _ He’s not a baby anymore, Daddy. _ He’s ready this time, really. 

And as Hyunwoo ties his shoes and Changkyun prattles from his seat on the couch, Jooheon crouches by the door to tie his sneakers. Last night, Jooheon had insisted on learning to tie his shoes because Minkyuk hyung, the cool neighbor from across the hall, had said that all five-year-olds should know how to tie their shoes by themselves. And it had taken only ten minutes, because Minhyuk hyung taught him how to tie bunny-style and  _ it’s so easy daddy! Minhyuk is so cool! _

Hyunwoo had laughed, thanked his friendly neighbor for being so nice to his kids and even offered him a cup of cola as a thank you. Minhyuk agreed, saying that it was nice to play with the kids, because he really,  _ really  _ loved kids. Over Cola and Doritos, Minhyuk said he was a single guy in his twenty-somethings that attended college and rented the apartment next door because it was cheaper than the locations closer to the university. Jooheon absolutely adored Minhyuk, said that his hyung was  _ soooo _ cool and  _ Daddy, Min-hyung has a Playstation! Can I play at his house, pretty please? _

Hyunwoo's heart swells with pride as Jooheon's chubby, clumsy fingers go through the motions, lacking finesse and technique, but getting the job done. He grins at his sneakers, and Hyunwoo decides it was definitely worth it in the end.

Sentimental, he cards his fingers through Jooheon’s black hair, dropping a kiss to his temple, and urging him to hurry because it’s Jooheon’s first day, a very important day.

When they’re all ready, seat belts fasted and all, Hyunwoo starts the engine. As he drives, Jooheon mumbles about his extra snack—homemade cookies, baked the day before with his grandma— and how he’s going to save the cookie for the nicest kid at the class.

Hyunwoo had done his research before deciding on this school, even taking Hoseok’s child-free opinion into account. 

Do Re Mi Kindergarten.

Very highly recommended on the internet, boasting a nice playground and a long list of highly qualified teachers and classes; Dance, Art, Music, Soccer, Reading Readiness program, equidistant between Hyunwoo’s office and Hyunwoo’s parent's house, the very best fit. 

The musical thematics is very obvious; the classrooms are named after notes, the fences around the playground are shaped into Las and Sols, all the decor is music-oriented, and Jooheon can’t shut up about how  _ cool _ that is.

“Son Jooheon,” Hyunwoo starts as they step in the premises.“Do you promise to be good?” 

Jooheon squints at him, vague indignation, his gaze entirely too withering for a toddler as Changkyun wiggles.

“Do you?” he presses.

It’s hardly the first time, hardly the most imploring and persuasive Hyunwoo, Jooheon has been.

And Jooheon nods curtly, fingers limp around Hyunwoo’s wrist as they step through the automatic doors.

  
  
  


Today, it’s orientation, a half-day affair. The kids will have a chance to meet their teachers, their new friends, get a tour of the school grounds, see where they’ll be sitting, where they’ll be washing their hands, where they’ll be taking their nap, where they will eat. They will have a chance to sit through a mock class, eat snacks, make their parents a special first day of school present. Mr. Yoo—Jooheon’s teacher, 28, Early Childhood Education major, top of his class, leans conspiratorially here, stage whispering about how it’s a very, very big secret.

Hyunwoo, smiling, shuffles his “Introductory Parents’ Packet” into his other arm, the arm holding Changkyun, as the seated children cheer in agreement.

The children are allowed to disperse, explore the new toys, their new classroom, and greet their teacher.

And Hyunwoo notes, a little self-consciously, that he’s the only single father among the parents there.

And though Jooheon has been so excited, he clasps Hyunwoo’s hand tightly, nervously on his own, has to be pulled forward before bowing quickly in a rushed, hushed greeting.

Mr. Yoo—Kihyun Teacher, please—smiles widely in response. And Jooheon’s fingers twist into Hyunwoo’s pants, his face pressing against his thigh in momentary, uncharacteristic shyness.

“Hey little guy,” Mr. Yoo greets, dropping to a crouch, trying to meet Jooheon's downcast eyed, and Jooheon balks, his eyebrows pinching as he pulls free.

“I’m five!” Jooheon counters. “Five years old. I’m not little.”

Mr. Yoo is crouching to be at eye level with him, the dark washed denim near his thighs straining, his neck tipping upwards to meet Jooheon’s gaze, but he nods, nonetheless, conceding with a soft sound of agreement.

“You’re right. Five years old is very big.”

“I can even tie my shoes. Daddy let me use his special toothpaste and his hair gel.”

Changkyun gurgles in agreement. Mr. Yoo glances upwards, stretches, stands.

“Yours, too?” Mr. Yoo starts, and Jooheon nods, murmurs an affirmative in Hyunwoo’s stead.

The teacher’s eyes crinkle in amusement, lips curling at the corners.

"This is my baby," Jooheon informs him, pride lacing every word. “My baby, mine.” 

“Your baby?” and Jooheon is too young to understand the source of his teacher’s amusement, but not too young to miss the teasing tone.

“Yes, I’m a good big brother,” Jooheon argues, wrinkling his nose in poorly-disguised disdain. “I’m the best big brother. I'm helping potty train him, and I don't even say anything when he accidentally pees on me.”

Mr. Yoo’s smile, if possible, seems to widen, his eyes crescents. He drops a hand to Jooheon’s shoulder, squeezes once.

“Daddy says I have to set a good example. Even if it’s hard. Because that’s what hyungs do. And I’m doing a very good job for my baby. It’s my job.”

“He’s right.”

Jooheon squares his shoulders, sets his chin. It’s ridiculously adorable the way he puffs out his chest as he speaks.

“So I'm choosing to behave. I’m choosing to be a good example.”

And Hyunwoo, flushing darkly, recalls on prior occasions outright begging Jooheon to behave, begging him to  _ please _ just listen to his teacher,  _ please Jooheon _ .

“That’s a very good reason to be a good boy,” Mr. Yoo agrees, nodding solemnly, and Jooheon offers him a smile. Jooheon gestures with a cocked thumb to the play rug, woven and multi-colored, with dancing Hangul characters stamped on flying bees. There are plastic blocks, puppets, animal plushies, Legos, dinosaurs, sea creatures, toy cars, and other children, engaging in shy hesitant playtime together. Jooheon’s gaze is a longing one, a questioning one. Mr. Yoo nods indulgently, tells him to have a great time.

Hyunwoo steps forward, initiates conversation.

There is the list of concerns he already has, warnings he wants to say. Jooheon's manners, his potential awkwardness with any kids his age, his treasure box, his penchant for mouthiness, the fact that their family is “non-traditional” and how it’s a sore spot even though they get to see their Mom every weekend. Jooheon knows families don’t look like this usually and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to let Jooheon know that different doesn’t mean wrong, that as long as there's love, it doesn’t matter how—

Hyunwoo shifts Changkyun—“Daddy, scary!”—in his arms, as Mr. Yoo hums understandingly.

“He's not a bad kid,” Hyunwoo had already rehearsed in his head, “He's just—He needs a lot of attention, a lot of patience... And he, you know, he’s very opinionated and off-putting sometimes, hard to care for, demanding, doesn’t always play well with—”

Mr. Yoo interrupts him with a hand on Hyunwoo’s forearm, motioning with his chin.

Jooheon is already giggling with other children, telling a joke, Hyunwoo assumes, because they burst into tinkling laughter immediately after.

A little girl with pigtails reaches out and holds his hand.

Hyunwoo relaxes into a bemused smile.

Jooheon is ready this time, and it looks like they’re finally starting to make this work.

“I’m sorry if I’m...” Hyunwoo trails off with a shy chuckle. “He’s just...”

“It’s okay,” Mr. Yoo laughs, loud, braying, but not unkind. “We understand, but this is a good school. And he seems like a good kid. Hardly the worst we have had. This is a very active kindergarten, too. We have a lot of special events to keep the kids occupied.”

“Special events?”

“Yes, school trips, planting and harvesting, student plays, school fairs… Some are even open to parent volunteers. The school doesn’t let prospective parents see, safety concerns for the kids, you know, but I have a Naver blog with some pictures. I’ll give you the name.”

All too soon, there’s a folded sticky note in Hyunwoo’s pressed pants pocket—a chubby, cutesy Pikachu—Mr. Yoo’s letters round and neat.

The bell chimes, xylophones, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Changkyun yawns, scratching his eyes.

And oh yes, Hyunwoo still has to drop off Changkyun at his parents’, pick up an order of coffee for the office.

But Jooheon has to say goodbye first, running over, reaching up with imploring hands so that Hyunwoo picks him up, kisses his forehead.

He wiggles, slides down then makes grabby hands in Changkyun’s direction, and Hyunwoo sets him down.

"Baby," Jooheon says softly, solemnly, eyebrows pinching, “Hyung will be gone. But only for a little bit, so don't cry, okay?” He drops a kiss on Changkyun's nose, small chubby hands cupping his brother’s cheek.

Changkyun gurgles out a happy yes, hyung, and Hyunwoo's bites back a smile, overcome with sentimentality. Changkyun asks for another hug, another kiss, with an outstretched hand, quickly clenched and unclenched.

Jooheon quickly complies.

"Baby," he reassures, "Be good.”

Last year, after Jooheon, Hyunwoo had tried to do it alone for a while, too proud to ask for help, or maybe too stubborn to admit that he needed it. He’d hired a nanny, set up Jooheon at a daycare. They had only made it three weeks before the system had collapsed in on itself.

Jooheon, still reeling in the aftermath of the big change, had lashed out at the teachers, picked fights, cried uncontrollably every morning when Hyunwoo dropped him off. And Changkyun, too young and demanding to handle, even alone, he’d cried, too, fed off his older brother’s confused anger and sadness. Together, they’d been too much. The young girl that Hyunwoo had hired, straight out of college, she’d been overwhelmed. This had been more work than she’d anticipated.

His mother had been affronted, outright offended that he should entrust her grandchildren’s care to strangers. To another child.

They’d abandoned the school endeavor for another year.

This is their second attempt, hopefully much more successful this time around.

Tightening his hands on the steering wheel, he spares a quick glance at his youngest son.

Hyunwoo is still worried that Changkyun will cry, spoiled rotten and used to Jooheon's tender care, but he doesn’t. Too sleepy apparently.

He hums along to the songs on the radio and is fast asleep by the time Hyunwoo parks in front of his mother’s house to drop him off. He barely chats with his mom, but he does tell her that Jooheon seemed to like the school. He’s hopeful this time.

  
  
  


On his lunch break, Hyunwoo, armed with Mr. Yoo’s sticky note, conducts further research, ignoring Hoseok’s withering remark about taking things too seriously. 

Yoo Kihyun’s blog. Hamster Teacher.

He scrolls through the archives, 3 years worth of pictures and blog entries.

Yoo Kihyun's wide handsome smile, crinkled eyes, and white teeth, pale skin, easy poise. There’s an entire gallery of him crouching down to plant seeds, feeding dogs, pressing his palm to aquarium glass, running after children on the playground, cradling children in his lap, dressing as a pirate with an eyeliner beard and an aluminum foil hook hand, dressing in a hanbok with his entire class.

Per the school’s safety regulation, the children's faces are blocked with cute stickers, Yoo Kihyun’s classes populated with smiley emojis.

There’s a picture of Kihyun cross-legged on the playground, a tiny human—cutesy puppy sticker obscuring any particularly telling features—wrapping their arms around him from behind, laughing into Kihyun’s neck. Kihyun is laughing, too, mouth open, head tilted back, eyes crinkled. His hair is glowing in the light.

_ It’s worth it _ , Kihyun had captioned the picture.

Hyunwoo finds himself staring, mouse cursor suspended over the soft hair curling at Kihyun’s forehead.

“Oh wow, he’s hot,” overly-comfortable mailroom intern Hoseok comments. “Is that Jooheon’s new teacher?”

Hyunwoo startles, but he nods in response, turning to meet Hoseok’s eyes.

"A looker for sure," Hoseok decides. A grimace like he’s deciding whether he should say what he’s about to say, but deciding to say it anyway because he’s overly-comfortable. “Definitely got the hots for the teacher.”

  
  
  


Around a mouthful of steamed vegetables that night, Jooheon recounts his day. Very, very exciting and very, very eventful even though it was only for a few hours.

Teacher Kihyun read a story about a princess that—Daddy you won’t believe, but she just kissed a frog on the mouth just because she thought that would make him become a prince, she just kissed a frog on the mouth!

And after that, they had animal crackers and milk for snacks.

And they got to play on the playground for recess, and Jooheon was the fastest runner on the field, and he fell because he was running so fast, but he only cried a little bit because he’s very big.

Teacher Kihyun said they’d be starting the really hard lessons soon, but that he thought the kids were all ready, they were all so smart.

And next week, Teacher Kihyun said they’d be using cereal to write Hangul. Jooheon was gonna learn to write his name, baby’s name, too.

He chatters on through his bath, pausing only occasionally to splash water at Changkyun on the other side of the tub.

He’s so happy, so excited, he loves school so much.

  
  
  


In his favorite pajamas, a matching set with Changkyun’s own, freshly showered, soft black hair combed in the middle part, Jooheon crawls out of bed to check his backpack. He has to give Hyunwoo the very secret gift they made during class.

Hand behind his back to hide his gift, Jooheon presents it with an outstretched palm, a shy smile. Changkyun shifts on his side of the bed to look, too.

It’s an origami cat. 

“Kihyun teacher had to help me with the—” Jooheon pauses, “Ears. I made a dog for Mommy!. We all made cats and dogs. I asked for one more, for Changkyun, but he said not today. Maybe tomorrow.”

Jooheon offers the origami proudly, already turning his cheek expectantly, waiting for a thank-you kiss.

  
  
  


Wednesday, Hyunwoo wakes up with a familiar weight on his chest, twice over. One on his left, the other to his right. Before his alarm once more, he shifts gingerly in an effort not to jostle them.

“Changkyun wanted to come, too,” Jooheon murmurs, sleepy, slurred, when Hyunwoo coaxes him awake. “You said I shouldn’t leave him alone.”

“Did you carry him?” Hyunwoo manages, voice husky with interrupted sleep. “You’re not supposed to pick him up. You can drop him.”

“He crawled up by himself. I only helped.”

Hyunwoo groans and Changkyun stirs. His long, long eyelashes cast dark shadows over his soft cheeks. His mother’s eyes.

“Changkyun,” he whispers, and Changkyun’s lips curl into a sleepy smile. “Did you crawl up here by yourself?”

“Hyung said I could,” Changkyun confirms, nuzzling against him, pulling Hyunwoo’s hand towards his mouth to bite on his wrist. 

The younger is more helpful this morning, not wiggling away when Hyunwoo changes his diaper, tugs on his clothes. He’s cleaner during breakfast, too. Quiet on the car ride to Jooheon’s school. He insists he can walk all by himself this time, hand in hand with his brother on the way to school.

Leaning against the doorjamb outside of Mi’s classroom, Hyunwoo watches as Jooheon tugs off his sneakers, pulls on his indoor shoes.

Mr. Yoo grins readily in greeting, crouching down briefly to ruffle Jooheon’s hair. Already familiar, fond, and Jooheon isn’t choosing to listen because he has to. No, he’s wanting to listen because he likes him.

Mr. Yoo curls his lips, scrunches his eyes, waves his hand in greeting. Hyunwoo returns it. But Changkyun, not quite content to leave it at that, tugs Hyunwoo further forward, demanding one last hug from Jooheon, then peeking less-than-slyly into the classroom.

Some of the students, early—earlier—arrivals have already filtered in, sat down, started playing. 

Hyunwoo laughs in exasperation, and Mr. Yoo, still crouching, catches Changkyun’s gaze, asks him if he knows his hyung is one of the best students in his class. He’s so smart and such a good listener, and Changkyun can be one, too, when he goes to school, right? Can follow his hyung’s excellent example?

Changkyun nods solemnly, tiny shoulders squared with purpose even long, long after when Hyunwoo drops him off at his grandmother’s.

  
  
  


That night at dinner, Jooheon once more narrates his day.

They had peaches for snack, bibimbap for lunch. And Jooheon was the only 5 year old brave enough to climb the tallest slide. And  _ Daddy _ ,  _ Changkyun _ , Jooheoney already has so many friends!

And during music class, Teacher Jackson—who is all the way from China—had said Jooheon is a natural, that he’s born to own the stage.

Jooheon’s face flushes at that recollection, and he uses his Avengers silverware to shovel another spoonful of rice into his mouth.

  
  


Thursday, Jooheon plays soccer and scores three goals. He makes another origami cat for Changkyun, then folds a paper airplane to hang above his bed, a makeshift, slightly crumpled mobile. He’s learned to make them on his own, so  _ can Daddy take him to the mall to buy special paper? _ He wants to make more for their room and also for Mommy’s desk at work.

Friday, Jooheon tells him he loves school, really, Teacher Kihyun is the absolute best. Today, they made pretend ice cream cones out of colored cotton and glitter, and then they ate real ice cream cones. And honestly, this is the best school. He has the best teacher. He’s so excited to go back next week and the week after and the week after that, he’s so excited for this year.

He prattles on animatedly from his booster seat, and Hyunwoo grins at him in the rear view mirror.

That evening, they stop at a convenience store and buy some candy so they can snack while watching some hero movie after dinner.

  
  


That Sunday, they go to have lunch at the mall and they go to the arcade after, as Hyunwoo promised.

  
  


Jooheon is doing very well at school, Mr. Yoo notes in neat Hangul on his note home a month later. He has a lot of friends, has a great grasp of the classroom routine, and he seems genuinely happy and comfortable. He’s one of Mr. Yoo’s brightest stars.

Jooheon insists that Hyunwoo takes a picture of the note and sends it to Mommy and Grandma. He asks Daddy to print it so he can hang it up on the fridge, too, reaches up on his tiptoes to touch it every morning, upsetting the little cherry magnets that hold it in place.

Jooheon and Changkyun adjust remarkably to the new routine.

Hyunwoo does, too.

And Hyunwoo starts looking forward to dropping them off in the morning, singing along to whatever pop song is playing on the radio.

He looks forward, also, to Mr. Yoo’s easy smile, his soft, genuine greeting every morning, a pleasant pick-me-up, more potent, more exhilarating and warm than his caffeine-laced morning coffee.

  
  
  


Jooheon has his first field trip a month later, the aquarium, and all the parents are given an A4 sized shot. Mr. Yoo and his 14 students, Jooheon cocking his hip, grinning, holding his fingers in an exaggerated peace sign.

His other hand is in Hyungwon’s. His best friend, but Jooheon has tons. Jooheon had told him how he doesn’t have to worry about people not playing with him or thinking he’s boring.

Hyunwoo scans the picture and sets it as his lock screen, looks at it when he’s having a particularly difficult day, coming upon deadlines, contemplating bringing work home with him.

Hoseok catches him gazing at the picture, comments on it again, teases him,  _ hamster teacher hm? _ , grinning when Hyunwoo gets flustered.

Hyunwoo sets his phone aside and gets back to work.

  
  


That Thursday, Jooheon climbs beside him on the couch, legs curling beneath him. He places his treasure box on his lap. It’s a simple cardboard box, his converse’s box, it’s decorated with superhero stickers and crayon drawings. The contents are a hodgepodge mix of odd items, with varying degrees of sentimental value. A pressed penny from last year back when they’d gone to Tokyo’s Disneyland, Changkyun’s hospital bracelet, a heart-shaped rock he’d found outside his grandma’s house, the ticket from the amusement park Uncle Hoseok had taken him weeks ago, one of his mom’s pendants.

He’s placing something else, a chip from a blue crayon.

“My crayon broke,” he explains softly, cradling it slowly in his tiny hand. “My first crayon from my first school.”

Hyunwoo can see that he’s added other things, too. An extra copy of Kihyun’s first letter home, a clumsy origami heart, a tour guide from the aquarium they visited, a frog sticker Hyungwon gave him. 

Hyunwoo leans over to drop a kiss to his temple, smiling as Jooheon sighs in contentment. 

  
  
  


Jooheon’s first playdate is a week later, casual, arranged apparently two days prior over snack. Mr.Yoo had done a great job of retelling the story the day before, how Jooheon’s deskmate and best friend Hyungwon, shoving a fistful of shrimp chips into his tiny mouth, had murmured about how much he liked the last Iron Man movie. Jooheon obviously perched into the conversation, telling him that Iron Man was his favorite hero ever. And that Spiderman was his baby’s favorite. And Jooheon had divulged that he had a baby at home. His baby’s name was Changkyun, and he had very chubby cheeks and he was very sweet and happy and he laughed at all kinds of jokes and he was being potty trained, so sometimes he peed when he wasn’t supposed to. But he was very cute, the best baby,  _ would Hyungwon like to meet him? _

Of course, Hyungwon, delighted, had said yes.

  
  
  


Hyungwon’s parents drop him off at 1 PM on Saturday. They eat lunch soon after, Jooheon setting the table, sitting next to Hyungwon. They talk about their favorite superheroes.

Changkyun gets sauce all over his face, all the way towards his eyebrows, and Hyungwon—a big brother, too, a hyung, he’d proudly pronounced—helps him clean up, cooing all the while about how truly precious and adorable Changkyun is, the most beautiful baby.

Changkyun, a mess as he is, preens, informing Hyungwon that he loves his new hyung.

The three of them play with blocks in the living room, eat chocolate cookies, then watch dubbed Marvel films.

Hyungwon’s eyelids are heavy with sleepiness by the time his mom picks him up.

  
  
  


And Hyunwoo’s apartment becomes a very popular destination.

  
  
  


Jaebum comes a week later, and they eat jajangmyeon, assemble large Lego cities then pretend to be monsters as they knock them over.

Dahyun afterward, they eat fried chicken, play house, Dahyun the mommy, Jooheon the daddy, Changkyun their baby.

Seungcheol two weeks later, kimchi jiggae, they run a restaurant with Jooheon’s food toys, calling Changkyun and Hyunwoo over to try their very delicious food.

Jooheon’s classmates all coo over Changkyun, fill Hyunwoo’s home with laughter and have his children grinning in their sleep.

And the mothers smile indulgently at Hyunwoo when they pick up their children afterward. They call him brave.

  
  
  


Jooheon invitations, they even extend to Mr. Yoo one morning several weeks later, as Jooheon unlaces his shoes and reminds his Daddy to pick up peach jelly at the store.

“We’re making tteokbokki,” he informs Mr. Yoo. A pause, a furrowed brow. “My father makes the best tteokbokki, you know. You should come and have some. Tomorrow.”

Mr. Yoo laughs, unnervingly deep. Uncomfortable, Hyunwoo squeezes Changkyun’s hand in his.

“ _ Please _ ,” Jooheon insists, making puppy eyes. _ Puppy eyes _ .

“Well, I’ve never been one to turn down a good meal,” Mr. Yoo responds with an easy smile, but his eyes are testing, eyebrows raised in question.

And Hyunwoo bows his head quickly in response, lips trembling into a much-too-shy smile.

Mr. Yoo writes his number on a chubby Pikachu sticky note.

That night, the next morning, Hyunwoo goes to sleep, wakes up with a heavy sort of purpose, looming and exciting.

  
  
  


They stop at the grocery store on the way back from grandmother’s house, and Hyunwoo lets them each pick a candy for the special occasion.

He fixes the rice dough and changes quickly in the bathroom, worrying over his hair, his face, applies his best cologne. 

He emerges minutes later to Jooheon and Changkyun sprawled across the couch, staring at the television screen.

Blinking up at him, Jooheon asks why Hyunwoo’s using his special smell, and Hyunwoo rushes back into the bathroom, dabs some on Jooheon’s wrists so that Jooheon will stop asking.

Changkyun, jealous, whines, he also gets a spritz, nuzzling into it immediately.

Jooheon, eyeing Hyunwoo's outfit, tells him to change his shirt, complaining that Daddy looks like he’s going to work, not having dinner with Kihyun Teacher and his babies. Jooheon runs to his father’s bedroom and emerges with a light blue denim shirt in his hands, Jooheon’s favorite, the one Dad wore for Grandma’s birthday.

Satisfied, placated, Jooheon glances at his Dad’s outfit and whistles.

And really, they all look good, very put together. Jooheon and Changkyun are wearing their best sets, the special ones, because Kihyun Teacher is the best teacher at the best school, and they should really look their best for him.

Hyunwoo relents with a strained smile.

  
  
  


That night, seated across from him, Mr. Yoo makes light conversation about his job, about what got him into teaching, then about music, movies he’s been meaning to watch. Smiling ruefully, he mentions that he tries to keep up with Ladybug and & Cat Noir, We Bare Bears and all the Marvel franchise to keep up with the kid’s interests.

“I have a very refined taste,” Kihyun jokes around the mug of the coffee that Hyunwoo has made him.

Mr. Yoo doesn’t mention leaving until both Jooheon and Changkyun are nodding with sleepiness.

His hands are warm as they brush Hyunwoo’s while helping with the dishes, and later, in a lingering goodbye. His eyes are dark, and his smile shy but playful.

And Hyunwoo feels entirely put out, entirely affected. “Call me Kihyun,” the younger insists. “Even your sons—Just call me Kihyun.”

Hyunwoo agrees with a shy grin.

“As long as you call me hyung. Not Mr. Son.”

  
  
  


Dinner together, it becomes an almost weekly affair—Daddy makes the best cheese ramyun, Daddy makes the best fried chicken, Daddy makes the best rolled omelet, Daddy makes the best bulgogi... These dinner dates are supplemented by Jooheon’s continuous playdates. The three of them seldom pass an entire weekend alone.

And Hyunwoo feels a familiar swelling of affection after every meeting, that very weird but specific feeling laying on the bottom of his stomach every time Kihyun smiles at him.

But he’s so, so hard to read.

And Hyunwoo is plagued with doubts about what it all means, if it means anything at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyunwoo just gives in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! 
> 
> This is the second and last chapter of this fic. I hope you enjoy it :)  
> Please leave your thoughts on the comments. It really helps the authors knowing their stories are appreciated and we get a lot more motivated to write and post. 
> 
> Ps: this chapter is explicit!

With the changing weather, as fall takes over and the leaves turn brown, Jooheon upgrades their dates, inviting Kihyun to come with them to the park. He reasons: Changkyun likes him. Jooheon likes him. Daddy also likes him.  
  
Kihyun agrees readily.  
  
And Kihyun—a zombie that loves to eat little boys named Jooheon and Changkyun, they are the yummiest— chases them around the park until they're shrieking and gasping and collapsing on the soft rubber floor. He collapses, too, beside Hyunwoo, leaning heavily against his side as he pants about how the zombie also needs a break, these yummy boys run much too fast.  
  
He tugs on the collar of his shirt, revealing a network of tiny brown moles as he attempts to cool off.   
  
Hyunwoo is helplessly endeared, chest full of it.

  
The upgrades, Jooheon-initiated, seem to continue.

  
Kihyun, one Sunday, goes with them to see the newest cartoon film, paying his own ticket and insisting on buying popcorn, an oversized Coke, and nachos. Kihyun says he owes it to them after all the lovely meals he's eaten at their house. Hyunwoo sits next to Changkyun, who sits next to Jooheon, who sits next to Kihyun.  
  
There's a scary part, and Kihyun holds Jooheon's hand, discreet but tight. He rubs his thumb along Jooheon's knuckles, whispers something as Changkyun whimpers and presses it into Hyunwoo's shoulder.

  
Two weeks later, Jooheon invites him to a play they've been meaning to see, a children's musical with singing robots.  
  
Kihyun again agrees.

  
Kihyun keeps agreeing.

  
The feeling in Hyunwoo's chest expands and expands and expands, with every curl of Kihyun's lips, ever casual brush again, every heavy, dark-eyed glance that Kihyun levels—maybe levels—in his direction.  
  
And several months in, after several nights of breathless realization and intrigue, Hyunwoo can admit to himself that these feelings he has are less than platonic, more than friendly.  
  
And maybe, maybe it's inappropriate, Hyunwoo wants to ask, but he's worried that Kihyun will say yes and that this will all stop. Hyunwoo isn't quite ready for that yet.  
  
It's working so, so well.  
  
Kihyun is his son's teacher, and he loves Jooheon. Cares for him. Understands him. Is helping him grow and learn, and maybe it's selfish to try to make it something more, imagine that it could be something more.  
  
But there's a muted exhilaration—probably misplaced exhilaration—in the prospect of those feelings be returned.

  
Hyolyn comes by on Saturday afternoon, after Hyunwoo's awful realization. Hyolyn looks good, her hair is longer, she looks prettier. When Hyunwoo opens the door, her smile reaches his eyes.  
  
Civil, they say, they have to be, and Jooheon hugs his mother's thighs and she fixes the strap of shoulder bag on her shoulder, face straining in something like hesitance. Her face has always been too open, eyes too painfully honest and soft. I don't love you anymore. I've tried to, but I don't. Let's stop pretending this is working. It died long, long ago...   
  
"Jooheon's making lots of friends, having a lot of playdates," Hyolyn notes with an easy laugh, something guarded still in her eyes. "He says his teacher comes a lot, too. Says he's got practically two dads now."  
  
Her eyes are heavy, words heavier with question, with something like intent, like soft understanding, soft permission.   
  
Hyunwoo doesn't know how to respond, so he doesn't. Just watches Jooheon watch him, her gaze warm. She doesn't love him like that anymore, but she still cares for him. In a different way than she's supposed to, in a way that meant they shouldn't be together anymore, but in a way that will never quite stop.  
  
She's been seeing someone, she told him a month back. A tacit sort of blessing.  
  
Her fingers linger on his wrist, her smile in her eyes. And she's so much happier without him. And he is, too.  
  
"Take care of yourself, Hyunwoo," she breathes, rubbing her manicured thumb against his wrist. "Let someone else take care of you, too."  
  
And Jooheon, tired of waiting in the hallway, whines at her to hurry up, please.  
  
He wants to see the superhero movie. Changkyun, too.

  
The next week, they greet November. Kihyun will write it for them if they don't know how to spell. This month, Kihyun apparently reveals, it's also his birthday so you can definitely write Kihyun Teacher a letter.  
  
And oh, Daddy, it's Kihyun Teacher's birthday, they have to celebrate with him. They have to.  
  
Kihyun, of course, agrees.  
  
Hyunwoo, of course, flutters with nervous energy.

  
They pick up cake mix, Hyunwoo attempts seaweed soup, Jooheon, and Changkyun help where they can.  
  
Kihyun, for his part, seems to appreciate their efforts, beaming at their pitchy rendition of "Happy Birthday," grinning around his spoonfuls of soup and forkfuls of cake.  
  
He helps Hyunwoo clean up afterward, lingering in the kitchen and making light conversation as Changkyun and Jooheon play in the living room.  
  
Hyunwoo and Kihyun are at the balcony, sharing the reminiscences of the white wine Kihyun had brought. Kihyun is telling him about the Christmas play they school is rehearsing, but it's windy and it's chilly, and Kihyun says he's feeling cold but before Hyunwoo could suggest that they go inside, Kihyun wraps his arms briefly around Hyunwoo's waist.  
  
"Really, thank you. Bachelor's life can be very lonely, and you have made it less so."  
  
Hyunwoo feels his face heat. "The kids love you, you know. They helped decorate the cake, too. Changkyun did, too. Sprinkles."  
  
"It was beautiful," Kihyun compliments. "Good pick-me-up from the realization that I'm old. It's all downhill from here."  
  
Hyunwoo nudges Kihyun back in an indignant protest. "You're not old, Kihyun. I'm older than you."  
  
"Yes, but hyung, you're handsome and distinguished."  
  
"You are, too."  
  
Kihyun scoffs.  
  
"You're easily the hottest dad I've seen at my school. Don't give me your pity compliments."  
  
And Hyunwoo, face entirely too hot, looks away, laughing as Kihyun squawks.  
  
"Why do you feel the need to compliment me? Are you flirting with me?" Hyunwoo laughs, deflection, distance, even as he arches so easily, so readily into the warm touch against his waist. A slap at first, but it lingers. Kihyun's fingers dig into his hipbone, dance up to his ribs, teasing, tickling before Kihyun lifts them away. Hyunwoo quells a shudder.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Hyunwoo blinks, and when he turns Kihyun is wearing that same damn smile, calculating, charming, disarming. It's the same smile he wears on his face when telling Jooheon about the fairies that live in the forest are magical.   
  
This isn't a joke, Hyunwoo wants to say. But it is—it was, and Hyunwoo, he suddenly, painfully needs Kihyun to speak first, give in first.   
  
"You do this with all the single parents," Hyunwoo tries, biting his lower lip hard, unable to meet Kihyun's eyes.  
  
"No." And Kihyun isn't smiling anymore. It's even more unnerving. Hyunwoo doesn't know what to make of his furrowed eyebrows, his contemplative tone. "No, I don't."  
  
Hyunwoo feels his own smile falter on his face.  
  
What are we? What is this?  
  
And are these dates, these maybe intent-heavy encounters that have Hyunwoo dressing to impress, styling his hair, wearing his nice cologne? And does Kihyun also maybe feel like he can't breathe right, too? Is this a game?  
  
"Did Jooheon put you up to this?"  
  
Kihyun blinks, startles.  
  
"What—?"  
  
"Jooheon, my son, he loves you. He wants you in his life, permanently. Did he put you up to this?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well then, do you pity me?"   
  
"No, Hyunwoo." Kihyun's whispers, his hand finding Hyunwoo's wrist.   
  
"Then why?"  
  
"Because I want you, Hyunwoo."  
  
"Why?" Hyunwoo presses, and Kihyun flinches.  
  
"Do you want me to leave?"  
  
And no, he keeps—keeps shifting the responsibility of this onto Hyunwoo, absolving himself of the risk.  
  
"No." And Hyunwoo feels like a teenager all over again.  
  
"I like you," Kihyun starts, and suddenly Hyunwoo can't fucking breathe, body stiffening. "I've liked you, ever since I first saw you. I've been holding back because I was not sure if you..."  
  
There's blood rushing in Hyunwoo's ears.  
  
"But if you're trying to say that you're not interested, then—then..." And Hyunwoo's tongue is tied, he can't say anything. "Then I'm sorry for making things awkward, but Hyunwoo, I just need you to say something back."  
  
Hyunwoo doesn't respond. Not vocally, he reaches out instead, squeezes Kihyun's fingers between his own, bites his lower lip.  
  
Kihyun's lips stretch into a breathless, shy, shy smile. That's hope, maybe, blooming in his eyes.   
  
"Can I?" Kihyun asks, tilting his chin, and he sounds so painfully unsure, for the very first time in all the time that Hyunwoo's known him. Unsure and shy and extra vulnerable. "I want to—"  
  
Pulse racing, Hyunwoo nods.  
  
Kihyun glides forward, but he lingers just shy of Hyunwoo's mouth, breath tickling Hyunwoo's sensitive lips.  
  
"I've wanted to do that for so long," he confesses against the seam of Hyunwoo's open mouth, words slightly dazed, eyes even moreso.   
  
It's Hyunwoo that closes the distance with a low, wanting sound.  
  
It's dirty, heated from the start, pent up tension on both ends—reciprocated. Kihyun moans into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair. Arousal, licking flames curls hot and potent in his lower body. Burning, heavy, just slightly overwhelming as Hyunwoo plumbs the depths of Kihyun's warm, wet mouth. Falling into him, he moans back, presses him against the parapet, melting into his pliant body. His hands trail up Kihyun's sides, anchoring on his hips.  
  
He loses himself briefly, but still too, too long.  
  
Both are breathless when they pull away. They have to, separating their mouths but keeping their lower bodies glued together. Hyunwoo's hands are still on Kihyun's hips. "My sons, they're in the other room. And we can't right now. We can't..."  
  
And it kills him to think that this might be a momentary lapse of judgment, a brief indulgence, a fleeting opportunity.  
  
"But later," Kihyun finishes for him, kissing the corner of his mouth in a warm promise. Soft, lingering. "Later, right?"  
  
Kihyun's eyes are soft, dark, begging for him. Want.  
  
"Yes."

  
Hyolyn picks up the kids for the whole weekend, and Hyunwoo and Kihyun have their first date.   
  
They went to the new hype ramen restaurant downtown, ate delicious food, and even strolled around and grabbed a cup of coffee at Starbucks. When they're already parked in front of Kihyun's building, Kihyun quickly catches Hyunwoo off guard, sealing their lips and nipping at Hyunwoo's lower lip. They make out for a minute or so, and then Kihyun smiles, keeping their face pressed up close.  
  
"I want to be a gentleman, really," Kihyun breathes against his lips, sliding his fingers across Hyunwoo's cheek. "And I know it's probably too fast...But please, come inside. I  
promise it'll be worth your while," he finishes, cheeks stained pink, eyes downcast, lips puckering on the last word. "Please."   
  
And Hyunwoo just gives in.  
  
Abrupt, hard, they crash into each other. Forceful, enthusiastic, they stumble through the door, into Kihyun's bedroom, attached at the hip, at the lip, eager mouths, roaming fingers, helplessly loud moans.  
  
Kihyun flips their positions, leading Hyunwoo towards the bed and pushing him to lay down. At the next second, he's sitting on him, fluidly grinding their hips, creating delicious friction. Kihyun just can't get enough, he kisses and kisses, his tongue prods and caresses Hyunwoo's own, he feels like he's going mad. The more they kiss and grab at each other's flesh, the needier he grows, the more desperate he gets. And Hyunwoo is sot hot, so big, so different from Kihyun's small frame and it makes his head spin. Hyunwoo could flip them if he wanted, cage Kihyun under him, and have his way, but he chooses to comply with Kihyun's wishes, he just waits and takes in all that the smaller offers him.   
  
Hyunwoo's soft and unsaid submission is everything Kihyun could have ever dreamt of. To have a man like that under him, ready to obey him, to just accept whatever he chooses to give him is so hot. Kihyun's hand roams up and down Hyunwoos's arms, squeezing and touching and just wanting more and more.  
  
"Take it off," Kihyun commands and Hyunwoo doesn't need to be told twice because at the next second his fingers are unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Kihyun marvels at the sinful sight in front of his eyes, taking in how gorgeous the man is, how fucking hot he is, and how much he wants to devour him, to make him his.   
  
"God," is all Hyunwoo can say, because Kihyun has him pinned to the bed, tugging on his lower lip just to provoke a heavier moan.   
  
"Nah, it's just me," Kihyun jokes, smiling mischievously and then kissing him playfully on his mouth. They continue to make out lazily, Kihyun's hands running up and down the older's chest, his nails catching on his nipples just to tease him a little more, turning Hyunwoo into a putty mess.  
  
Kihyun gets impatient and fits himself between Hyunwoo's legs, hands flying to his pants, and shrugging them off his legs. His dick stands proudly against his thigh, head swollen and wet, and Kihyun can't even breathe before his lips are engulfing it down his throat.  
  
"Fuck, Ki-" Hyunwoo moans, hands scrambling on the sheets and hips stuttering. "Oh my god."  
  
"Look at me," Kihyun whispers firmly, eyes locked on Hyunwoo as his mouth works up and down his cock, licking and sucking hard.   
  
Hyunwoo is so turned on that all he can think about is Kihyun. Kihyun's wet and velvety mouth around his cock, Kihyun's pretty muffled moans, Kihyun's hands playing with his balls. He feels so good it should be illegal.  
  
When things get a little too heated and Hyunwoo gets a little too close, Kihyun finally lets go of his cock, a trail of saliva dripping down his chin as his mouth detaches from Hyunwoo's member. He smiles shyly, draping himself over the bigger's frame and kissing him on his mouth sensually, letting the other taste himself. Hyunwoo's hands search for his clothes and then Kihyun is also naked, his soft skin flushed and hot to touch. Kihyun is so pretty, Hyunwoo thinks, admiring the younger's body as they lay down again, Kihyun balancing himself on his arms as they kiss heatedly. Hyunwoo's hands are glued to his hips, squeezing his sides and pressing Kihyun's body against him, his lower body arching off the bed, begging for any kind of friction.  
  
"I like you like this," Kihyun says, holding his face with his hands, his thumb caressing his lips. "God, I love you like this. All the times I touched myself to this, to the thought of you under me as I had my way with you. I came in my pants like a teen."  
  
Hyunwoo gulps, the thought of Kihyun alone, touching himself on that very bed, because of himself is so hot, so sensual, he can't even think straight.  
  
"Kihyun, please," he pleads, his dick is aching. He needs something. Anything.  
  
"You're so nice, Hyunwoo. So gentle, so good," Kihyun coos, his lips moving against Hyunwoo's cheeks. "Every time I see you all I can think about is how nice and cute you're, how well you treat me, how good you make me feel. I want to kiss you and hug you and ugh-" Kihyun scrunches his nose, rolls his eyes. "You're so perfect and hot and I want you to be mine. Will you? Will you be mine, Hyunwoo?"  
  
Hyunwoo's insides are churning, flames licking his lower body, his dick swelling. And his head… Well, his head is spinning. Kihyun, Kihyun, Kihyun…   
  
"Yes," he says, fingers burying on Kihyun's hair. "I'm yours."  
  
Slumping forward, panting Hyunwoo licks over the moles dotting Kihyun's throat. Because he can. He's been wanting to so long, and he finally can. Kihyun's moan is dark and rich, heavy, and wet against Hyunwoo's throat.  
  
"Fuck, I want you," Kihyun breathes. "I used to wish you were gay, you know? I didn't know what all those dates meant. Dinner dates, movie nights, strolling by the river… You're so hard to read."  
  
"Sorry," Hyunwoo hums apologetically. "The kids…"  
  
"I get it," Kihyun dismisses him, his tongue prodding into his mouth, his ass moving so his dick nest close to his hole. "I wanna ride you so fucking badly."  
  
"Shit."  
  
Kihyun searches for the lube and the condom in his nightstand and doesn't even prepare himself, he just covers Hyunwoo's cock with the sticky gel and sits on him, letting gravity do its work.  
  
"Oh god, it hurts so good," he says, biting his lower lip as he waits to adjust to the girth inside him. "I love it. It feels so fucking good."  
  
Kihyun starts to move, his hips rising and then dropping rhythmically, his lips echoing soft moans, his eyes closed and head lolled back in sheer ecstasy. Hyunwoo is no different, he can't do much more than accept his fate, to feel Kihyun's sinful hips grinding on him, to feel Kihyun's hands pinning his wrists against the bed, preventing him from moving. He loves his unsaid submission, Kihyun's obvious domination, he loves how Kihyun controls him and makes him want to please him, to be pliant and available. He loves to be taken care of by Kihyun. He deserves it, he does so much after all, he deserves to be taken care of too.  
  
Minutes and minutes pass, Kihyun starts riding him more desperately, angrily even, their moans grow louder, his movements messier, Hyunwoo's wrists aching from how strong Kihyun is gripping them and pushing them to the bed. "I'm gonna cum," the elder warns, his voice stuttering. God, he feels fucking amazing his head is spinning from all the pleasure. "Please, Ki. Let me cum."  
  
"Cum," he commands, and Hyunwoo explodes inside the condom, eyes rolling back and letting out a groan from the back of his throat. Kihyun moans at the sight, Hyunwoo with his head tilted back, mouth hanging open, throat exposed and glistening with sweat. He doesn't slow down, his hips chasing his pleasure, and not even a minute after he's coming too, his muscles tightening and literally smashing Hyunwoo's softening cock inside of him. Kihyun dick twitches and spills cum all over Hyunwoo's chest and he collapses on him, his forehead hanging his face.  
  
"God, that was-" Kihyun starts, getting off Hyunwoo's lap and laying beside him. Hyunwoo quickly takes care of the condom and lays down again, Kihyun snuggling against his side, smiling and searching for Hyunwoo's eyes.   
  
"That was perfect," Hyunwoo completes, pushing the hair off the younger's face. "You're uh-" he laughs. "You're nasty, naughty. Never knew you'd be like this, hamster teacher."  
  
"Well, now that you know," he jokes, drawing meaningless patterns on Hyunwoo's chest with the tips of his fingers. "What do you say? Was it worth your while?"  
  
"Definitely."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! you can find me on Twitter if you want! it’s @favshowki there!
> 
> xoxo


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